Don't Kill Thirteen!
by WarthogDemon
Summary: Oneshot. Cameron & Chase are in a supply closet when they overhear a conversation between House and Wilson - apparently about a dying Thirteen. Set in early Season 5. CameronXChase. Rated M just to be safe. It's just borderline M, really. Please review.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own House M.D. nor any of the characters except for my own.

Cameron needed Chase _now_. But this time she made extra sure no one was going to use the exam room, making the possibility of her and her fiancée being discovered very low. Inside, the exam room's supply closet they embraced and quickly began pulling off articles of clothing from each other. Marriage was still weeks away, but there wasn't anything that said they couldn't start Junior's creation early.

Cameron was just about ready to receive the needed DNA shipments from Chase when outside the door opened and House's voice was heard, "Why are you bringing her in _here_? We can't treat her here! She needs-"

"There's got to be something." That frantic voice was Wilson's, "At least stop the bleeding, try to keep her stable."

Inside the supply closet Cameron and Chase stared at each other and hastily began putting their clothes back on. In an effort to find his underwear, Chase bumped a broom which slapped against the far wall. He winced and gave Cameron an apologetic look when she glared at him. Fortunately, neither House nor Wilson had heard.

"There's nothing we can do!" House said in annoyance.

"House!" Wilson was shocked, "She's Thirteen! She's one of us! We have to do something!"

Cameron and Chase stopped scrambling for clothes and looked at each other upon hearing Remy Hadley's nickname. Something had happened to Thirteen? Why wasn't she talking? Was she unconscious? Cameron grabbed the pants beside her and started pulling them on as the two doctors outside continued talking.

"Right, I'll magically pull vertebrae and new leg bones out of the air to put back into her body, then we get Taub to surgically reconstruct her left side." House scoffed, "In case you haven't noticed, we're-"

"She's whimpering in pain, House. We can at least try and stop the severed veins in her one leg so she won't bleed to death."

Cameron paused from getting her clothes back on and put a hand over her mouth in shock. What the hell _happened_ to that poor woman?

"It's over for her, Wilson. I'm surprised that SUV didn't just obliterate her when it struck her. We can't _do _anything. It's her time anyway; she obviously doesn't have much longer to live, considering."

So the fact Thirteen had Huntington's means treating her was a waste of time?

Chase stared at the ever deepening expression of shock playing across his fiancé's face, thinking Cameron's face would just pop off at any moment. Cameron couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd heard House talk nonchalantly about patients, but never about one of their own. And this was beyond that. House didn't seem the slightest bit inclined to help Thirteen. Instead he seemed perfectly fine letting her _bleed_ to death when help was nearby.

"She has feelings, House." Wilson continued, "And she gives people joy. She-"

"Everyone she's given joy to are either dying or already dead, in case you haven't noticed."

Cameron's shocked face started showing the unmistakable symptoms of someone truly enraged. She could (usually) withstand House belittling his coworkers. But a snide remark about Thirteen's dead mother? Low, even for him. She looked at Chase (who was now fully dressed), wondering if he felt the same anger as she did. He _did_ look worried for Thirteen, but seemed more concerned about being discovered. Men.

House wasn't done, "Now let's get her off the table and bury her in a hole somewhere before she contaminates the whole exam room."

Cameron stared at the closed door with the exam room beyond in horror, and growled, "When did _you_ ever care about clean exam rooms?"

"House!" Wilson gasped, "She can hear you!" (At the same time, Chase had whispered at her soon-to-be-bride, "Cameron! They'll hear you!") Cameron glanced at him and rolled her eyes.

House was starting to sound exasperated, "Wilson, she's-"

"She's _suffering_." Wilson stressed, "If you ever cared about someone would you want them to suffer?"

_Yes, you tell him Wilson_. Cameron thought as she put her lab coat back on, now completely dressed again.

"Oh for pete's sake!" House's footsteps. "Give me her neck, I'll stop her suffering."

Cameron held her breath. The thought of a broken, bloody Doctor Hadley laying on the exam table was horrible enough for Cameron to imagine. But adding to that, the thought of Thirteen listening to all of this; watching through terrified tear-filled eyes as House limps forward to snap her neck . . .

"NO!" Cameron grabbed the doorknob and flung the supply closet door open. The door banged a counter as she exited and flew back into her but she pushed it aside, "HOUSE, DON'T YOU _DARE_ TOUCH-"

Thirteen had golden fur, four paws, and a snout. Cameron stared at the golden retriever, at Wilson, at House, and back at the dog, "Where's Thirteen?"

House looked past Cameron at Chase and then back at her, "In Cuddy's closet."

Cameron ignored the sarcastic remark, "You were talking about Thirteen-"

"Gracie's thirteen years old." Wilson explained and instantly Cameron's rage was replaced with sorrowfulness. Wilson explained that he was walking across the parking lot with Gracie to take her home when an SUV struck her. The driver had sped off not even looking back.

Gracie was the sweet golden retriever that the staff sometimes brought in for the cancer kids. Cameron blinked, "And you're just going to let her die?!?"

"Well, unless you're a vet-" House cut off his speech as Cameron grabbed some Manderephrine and a syringe. Cameron quickly injected it into the dog, "No, but we can keep her heart beating until we get her to one. Chase!"

Chase, who had been standing inside the supply closet the entire time, finally stepped out, still embarrassed at having been discovered. Cameron looked at him as she gently scooped up Gracie in her arms. Gracie whimpered, and Cameron whispered to her in a soothing voice, "Don't worry. You'll be fine." She turned to Chase, "Come on, I know a vet nearby!"

"Um, yes. Okay." Chase started following Cameron out the door. As he passed House, the doctor looked at him, "Nice pants."

"Wha?" Chase looked at House in confusion, and then looked down at his – oh crap. "Cameron, wait!" He hurried out.

House looked at Wilson in amusement, "I never realized they wore the same pants size, did you?"

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**Author's Note**: I don't know terribly much about medicine, or if a dog in Gracie's condition could be properly saved in a hospital. There's no such thing as Manderephrine. I made it up because I wanted to give poor Gracie some hope of surviving until she gets to a vet.

Please R&R as this is my first fanfic on here. :)


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